


To Those Who Perished On The Climb

by CobaltCandle



Category: Celeste (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bullying, Canon Trans Character, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub, Dream Sex, F/M, Family Issues, Forgiveness, Gender Dysphoria, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Loss of Control, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape, Rough Sex, Self-Acceptance, Self-Doubt, Selfcest, Slurs, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wet Dream, deadnaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28851657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltCandle/pseuds/CobaltCandle
Summary: After her first day of climbing Celeste Mountain, Madeline sets up camp in the old ruins, only to be woken up by someone strange, late at night. A doppelganger, a Part of Her from her past, making their anger known. Will she be able to make peace with him, or is he right about what she truly is?CW: Transphobia and transphobic slurs
Relationships: Badeline/Madeline (Celeste)
Kudos: 16





	To Those Who Perished On The Climb

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my eleventh piece of erotic fiction! This is another fic along the lines of Don't You Have Any Shame, whereby a trans character has all sorts of horrible things happen to them. But unlike poor Zoe, this one has a happier ending, at least.
> 
> If you've been reading my social media, you may have read that I was really torn up about this. I enjoy writing these kinds of stories, but I also feel like a total fuckbag while writing them. This one especially so, since I tried to add a little bit more plot than DYHAS's own problematic trans-bodies-as-fetish-material plot, which itself made me worried that I was misrepresenting the lived experience of trans people. So, as with all my works that contain pertinent real-world issues, I'm making the implicit disclaimer explicit:
> 
> I do not endorse the themes depicted in this piece of fiction.  
> The author is cis and lacks the insight that a trans person would have into their day-to-day problems and thusly apologizes if he too grossly misrepresents the lived experiences of trans people. No harm is intended and the author would be thrilled to correct any mistakes made.  
> Trans rights are human rights.  
> Transphobia is bigotry and has no place in our society.  
> If you are a transphobe or a so-called 'gendercritical', you are not permitted to consume my work. Fuck off back to the hellhole you crawled out of.
> 
> With the disclaimer out of the way, the idea for this story came from a combination of the explicit themes of the game and, of course, the fact that Madeline is trans. Badeline is the self-doubting part of Madeline, and it didn't seem like too much of a leap for Badeline to instead represent Madeline's anxieties and worries as a trans woman. Of course, just like Chapter 2 in Celeste, this entire interaction is a dream, and so both of them actually present as cis for the first half of the story, before becoming trans in the back half when Madeline makes peace with her past.
> 
> A small note: while the name Badeline is used in the tags and in these notes, it's not really her canonical name (please don't comment telling me she's referred to as Badeline in the code; I know already), so I refer to her as either Part of Madeline or as Madeline's (non-canon) deadname.
> 
> And finally, my sincerest apologies to everyone who worked on Celeste, but especially to Maddy and Lena. Your game is a masterpiece and will go down as one of the all-time greatest.
> 
> Jeez, a lot of notes for this one. Anyway!  
> As always, your comments and feedback are very much appreciated
> 
> Donate to the Trevor Project: <https://www.thetrevorproject.org/donate/>  
> Follow me on the bad website: [@CobaltCandle](https://twitter.com/cobaltcandle)

– **Celeste Mountain –**

**This memorial dedicated to those**

**Who perished on the climb**

Madeline’s mitten-covered fingers slid off the frostbitten monument as she turned her head skyward to the looming mountain before her. She had climbed all day, for hours and hours, and had only made it through the ruins of the abandoned city that arrogant men had built decades before.

“Ugh, I’m exhausted,” the redhead grumbled, shuffling her way down the mound hosting the massive obelisk, the pristine snow up to her waist. She had made camp nearby, in a small alcove in the massive stone ruins that marked the transition from modernity to history. She rubbed her hands together, blowing into them to try to spread her hot breath across her rime-rimmed face as she began to dig through her backpack. “Where is it…? Oh, here we go,” she said, pulling a flint out and turning to the makeshift fire pit she had put together, a small circle of stones with the driest kindling she could find nearby piled in the center.

She leaned over the firepit, striking the flint, the sparks like bright snowflakes dropping onto the firepit, whose damp wood refused to catch. “C’mon, cmon…” the young woman frowned, striking the flint faster still, the sparks lighting her face in the rapidly darkening evening. Finally, the wood began to smolder and she tossed away the flint, leaning down to blow air onto the tiny flame, feeding it until it grew large enough to self-sustain. “Phew,” Madeline fell back, wiping her forehead as the fire crackled and popped, the heat sinking into her tired body, warming her bones and giving her the first real moment to relax since she had arrived.

She turned her gaze skyward again. Celeste Mountain seemed so… insurmountable. “This is it, Madeline,” she quietly said to herself, closing her eyes. “Why are you so nervous? Just breathe.” In, and out. In, and out. The warm scent of a fresh fire filling her lungs, as the icy chill beat down on her. “You can do this.” She opened her eyes, and Celeste Mountain was just as tall as it was before, looming over her. “Urgh…” Madeline grumbled, trying to shake off her anxiety as she took her belongings from her backpack, unfurling her sleeping bag by the fire watching the starry night past the falling snow just outside her little abode. _You can do this, Madeline_ , she thought to herself. _If you can do this, you can do anything._ She looked down at the nearly-empty transparent-orange plastic bottle, idly shaking it and letting the rattle of the pills echo out through the silent night before tossing it back in to her backpack.

“Tomorrow.” She said, sliding into her sleeping bag as her flame continued to crackle. “Tomorrow I’ll climb the mountain. Just… breathe.” She closed her eyes, drifting away, the fading warmth of her campfire and its crackles and pops her lullaby.

_Just breathe. You can do this._

* * *

She awoke with a start, the little stone alcove unnaturally thick with smoke. “Ah, what the heck…” Madeline coughed, trying to wave the smoggy smoke away as she pulled herself out of her sleeping bag. She was completely naked: her long, red locks draped down, over her pale, washboard chest, each little tit capped with a small pink nipple, erect in the cold mountain air. She had a little tub to her tum, but she was still quite slender, and her wide hips and thick thighs framed her pussy lips, a little fire-red heart of hair trimmed on her mound. Her arms immediately moved in a blur, covering her chest and hiding her pussy while trying to conserve her body heat.

“What? What happened to my clothes?” Her brown eyes darted to and fro, the snowstorm raging hard outside, the howling of the wind making it hard enough for her to hear her own thoughts. She had only run into one other hiker on her way up, and there was no way he could have stripped her… right? A low, rumbling chuckle reverberated out from the corner of the alcove, coming from a figure not unlike Madeline’s own, silhouetted by thick smoke and dim light. She took a step back, squinting to try to make out their features, but she could only see… herself.

“Are you… me?” She quietly asked, taking a step toward the figure.

“I’m Part of You.” The figure replied. Their voice, low and gravelly, sent chills down her spine: so familiar, and yet so different. As she approached, she got a better look at them. The same long, silky locks draping down from their head, dyed a dark lavender. Their ghostly-pale body more fit than hers – less tub, more tone, with just about as much chest. And, of course, their crimson eyes that seemed to glow in the dark, and the sudden flash of their sharp fangs in its devilish grin.

“Why would Part of Me look so… creepy?” Madeline hesitated. This didn’t look like Part of Her. This looked like something else to her. Like a demon. Was… was there a demon inside of her? Deep inside, desperate to get free…?

“This is just what I look like, okay? Deal with it.” The figure slowly advanced toward Madeline and the meager light that squeaked through the raging snowstorm outside, taking slow, deliberate steps, his footfalls echoing against the ancient stoneworks.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-” Madeline’s words caught in her throat, her blood running ice cold as the Part of Her stepped closer. She recognized him, now. From… back then. From before. Before all this. He was just as naked as she was, and she could recognize that penis anywhere. Small. Hairless. Uncut. His tight scrotum high against his body, shaved hairless. With a small, broken purple heart on his mound – not trimmed, like hers, but tattooed.

He was **her**.

“Forget about it,” he said, coming closer and closer to her. “I can’t tell you what a relief it is to finally get out of your head.” He was so close to her. She wanted to back away, but her feet felt frozen in place and she just couldn’t break the ice and run. “But look, I’m worried about us.” He reached out and firmly grabbed her wrist. His flesh was clammy. Cold. Dead.

Madeline screamed.

“ **Don’t touch me!** ” Madeline pushed him away, stumbling back, falling against the ice cold stone bricks, her sweaty skin sticking to the icy masonry behind. Part of Her loomed over her, flashing that fanged grin again. Her eyes clamped shut. She didn’t want to look at him. To look at _herself_. He wasn’t her. He wasn’t! Not anymore! _This is just a bad dream, Madeline,_ she told herself, over and over, shivering in a pathetic little fetal position as the Part of Her loomed over her, reaching down and taking her wrists with a rough, painful grip, pulling her up off her ass and holding her in the air, staring her straight in her now-open eyes, his crimson irises like pools of blood in a sea of white. She tried to kick and thrash against him, but her legs were moving like she was trying to sprint underwater. Slow. Lethargic. Incapable. She felt his chill running down her arms, enveloping her naked torso, causing her to shudder, the nipples capping her flat chest perking up as hard as they could.

“Why are you fighting me, darling?” His voice was dripping with serpent’s venom. “I just want what’s in your best interest. What’s in _our_ best interest.” He pulled his hands away from her wrists, but she remained dangling in the air. Restrained by chains of volition and doubt. He extended his right fingertip and began to slowly trace a fingertip down her arm, brushing her smooth underarm for a moment before moving toward her chest, tracing a slow, deliberate figure eight around her breasts.

Madeline sobbed, her tears running down her face, dripping off her chin and crystallizing in midair, shattering into ten thousand tiny fragments on the masonry below. “How long has it been, Madeline?” the Part of Her said, stopping his finger against her sternum and jabbing it inward, eliciting a painted groan from the girl. “Since you started this new _hobby_ of yours?” He hissed, sharply dragging his finger across her tit and flicking her nipple, leaving Madeline screaming in agony, his fingernail trailing a deep burning scratch on her chest. “You are many things, darling,” the Part of Her leaned in close to her ear as she shivered and strained against the invisible bonds. “But you’re not a _girl_.”

Madeline looked up at him through bleary eyes, a sickeningly joyful grin on his face that showed off his sharp fangs. She felt nauseous just looking at him, her stomach churning as she felt the horribly familiar veil of dread casting over her naked body. “Who…” she weakly said, her voice nary more than a peep, “…who says I can’t be…?”

The Part of Her stepped closer, goosebumps cascading over her pale body as she felt his body heat, or lack thereof. It was like he was a void of heat, draining what little warmth there was in the smoky alcove with his presence alone. Suddenly, he leaned in close, his face inches from her own as his hand slid between her legs, icy digits spreading her hairless pussylips wide, his wide fingertips together in the shape of an arrowhead, rubbing her sensitive slit up and down, the redhead whimpering with every shameful grope. He was harsh; rough; indelicate; and yet, with each unpleasant stroke of his fingers, she felt a foreign warmth growing in her. A strange sensation, but one that just felt _right_ to her. She closed her eyes for a moment, basking in the new feeling in her tummy, only for her eyes to bolt back open as she felt warm fluid running down the inside of her thighs.

“Do you feel that, Madeline?” the Part of Her said, nipping at her earlobe. “You’ve never felt it before, have you? That slow throbbing between your legs.” His hand paused, pulling away from her vulva, heat steaming off of the sticky strands of pussyjuice connecting his fingertips to her slit. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” He smeared his juice-slick fingers against Madeline’s lips as she tried to crane her neck away from him, eventually forcing them into her mouth where he left them there, resting on her tongue. Her own fluids were sickly-sweet, the overpowering flavor of overripe strawberries assaulting her tongue. She gagged against his hand, trying to spit him out, to pull away, to bite his fingers, but her body would not obey her. She sobbed, her cheeks wet with tears again as she felt herself begin to involuntarily suckle on his digits, betraying her wholly.

“You don’t like this, don’t you, Madeline?” The Part of Her said with a devilish smirk on his face. “You may hate it, but your body is being a _good girl_ for me.” Her entire body reflexively shuddered at the epithet, intense pleasure radiating out from her clit, warming her loins as her first truly _female_ orgasm wracked her body. Her back arched, jutting forward her tiny chest as if to present it to the Part of Her, who happily cupped one of her tits, squeezing his fingers together until they just held her nipple, which he twisted painfully. She screamed, the pain wracking her body, sickeningly ruining the remnants of her first vaginal orgasm, like adding dijon to a peanut butter sandwich.

Or, at least, she thought she screamed.

But it came out wrong.

“ **Aaahhh** … **mmmnnnggghhh**...” An erotic moan slipped past his fingers, filling the air as he smiled unnaturally wide at her. He slowly pulled his hand from her mouth, her plush lips suckling on each digit as they popped out. He pressed his fingers against his chest, drawing her eyes down as he smeared her spit against his toned body, down past his abs, between his legs, where she saw it.

A sight she was intimately familiar with.

A sight that she wished she never had to see again.

A sight that made her head spin and stomach tumble with intense dysphoria.

His erect penis.

Five hard, slender inches, twitching in anticipation, his pale foreskin half-rolled back to expose a gray cocktip with clear precum percolating on his slit. His balls, hanging high between his legs, tight against his body but still gently rising and falling in time with each of his slow, deliberate breaths.

She felt her hands lowering down to rest at her side for a moment before Part of Her grasped them, pulling her forward, slicking her bare soles with the pool of fluids below her. “You’re such a _good girl_ , Madeline,” Part of Her said, slowly pacing around her, circling her, like a shark would its prey. Her breaths were ragged as tears dripped down her face still, desperate to cry, to scream, to run, but still her body was paralyzed. Every single hair on her body stood up on end as she felt his eyes on her body, checking her out – no, _evaluating_ her, his penis occasionally brushing against her bare flesh just to gauge her reaction. He stopped in front of her, smirking, and put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down with no resistance as she slid to her knees, her face inches from his bobbing cock.

“Because you’re a _good girl_ , darling, I’m going to give you some practice on playing with your boyfriend _,”_ he said, leering down at her, a dribble of pre pissing out his tip and splattering on the floor just in front of her. _No… I don’t want to… I don’t want to touch that… thing…_ Madeline tried, so hard, to make her body obey, but she could not. Her hand slowly reached up and she wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft. And she could _feel it_. Between her legs. Dread slowly crept in, as her fingertips brushed up, around the Part of Her’s cocktip, a phantom jolt of pleasure running up her spine, then back down, his foreskin rolling back to expose that sensitive crown to the icy air, only warmed by the girl’s sharp, panicked panting as she felt everything he did.

“ **Mmm!** ” He loosed an exaggerated moan, thrusting his hips forward. “I wish you could know how good this feels, darling. A cute little thing like you stroking a big, strong cock is the best feeling a _man_ can feel.” She bit the insides of her cheeks hard enough to draw blood, the throbbing pain and taste of iron in her mouth in her mouth barely enough to distract from the dysphoric sensation of having her phantom cock stroked. The Part of Her reached down and patted her head, rustling her long, crimson locks. “It just feels so, so good, darling. Your soft little fingers aren’t built for mountain climbing – they’re built for pleasuring big, strong cocks like mine.” Like _his_. The words echoed in her mind as her hands kept stroking him, one now moving down to cup his balls, gently squeezing the sensitive orbs just hard enough to make her wince in pain.

She hated this. She **hated** this. She hated… **this**. Touching him. Touching the Part of Her. Touching… her. The warmth in her belly and between her thighs was gone, replaced by the sterile, familiar pleasure of penile stimulation, her brain obediently saying, “this feels good,” while at the same time screaming, “this is wrong.” And yet… she could not stop. Her muscles strained but it was as if his cock had a gravity of its own, forcing her body to pleasure him.

“ _Good girl_ ,” he said, reaching down to his hard cock and brushing her hands away. “You make such an obedient girl, darling,” he glowered. “It’s a shame you’re only obeying me now, trapped naked in a ruin, instead of a week ago, when I said this trip was a bad idea, or a month ago, when I said it wasn’t worth refilling your prescription, or a year ago, when--”

“Don’t!” Madeline screamed, sobbing, looking up at the towering, masculine figure in front of her. “Don’t say it…!” He squatted down, forcefully pressing an icy fingertip against her soft lips, silencing her as she wept.

“Hush, darling. You should have listened to me a year ago, when I said it was a bad idea to tell Mom her son was secretly a girl this whole time.” Madeline looked dejected, tears streaming down her face, reliving that memory again. Her mother, screaming at her. Slapping Madeline’s face, leaving painful scratch marks from her sharp nails. Saying she wished Madeline had never been born. Calling her a sissy. A tranny. A faggot.

“Was she wrong, Robin?” The Part of Her ruffled her hair patronizingly. Madeline felt nauseous. She hadn’t heard anyone call her that in months. Her deadname. Even Mom called her Madeline now. Begrudgingly. “All she ever wanted was a big, strong son, and what did she get? A sad little tranny, crying in the snow as a _real man_ gives her what she deserves.” He grabbed her ankles and harshly pulled her feet out from under her, her back painfully smacking against the floor below. He spread her legs wide, exposing her shaved pussy and tight little butthole, scooting himself forward and smacking his cock against her mound, beating that little red heart of hair with his member. “I’ve tried to tell you what you’re good for, Robin, darling. Over and over,” the Part of Her said, flashing that fangy smile at her. “But now…?” He licked his lips. “Now I get to _show_ you.”

His cock slid down, over her mound and across her slit, his icy rod sliding up and down her pussy. She shook, shivering cold, her arms clasped around her body for warmth as he teased her feminine folds. “You want this, don’t you, Robin?” he said, practically growling, his voice low and rumbling. “You want a real man to take your little girly cunt for a ride, don’t you?” He paused, leaning down atop her, his weight knocking the air out of her. “At least if you get raped there,” he hissed, his words like daggers, “It’s proof you’re a real girl, right, darling?” He grabbed his cock and slid it down her slit, one last time, before going lower. Prodding, poking, teasing Madeline’s little bottom hole. “But maybe a good little boy like yourself should take it back here.”

Madeline whimpered, trying to wiggle away from him. “No… please… not there…” she begged, her voice tiny and pathetic compared to the Part of Her’s venomous words. She felt his cold cock pressing forward, against her tight little bumhole, spreading her open painfully as she desperately tried to tighten that sphincter, trying and failing to keep him out.

“Now, now, darling,” the Part of Her grunted, his cock slowly, painfully beginning to slide into her excruciating anus. “I’m doing this for your sake. It’s only a matter of time until you meet a nice boy, go home with him, and he expects to bareback your fertile little cunt, only to find that you’ve made a faggot out of him,” he sharply hissed, grabbing her wrists and holding them against the floor next to her head, his body pinning her as his long lavender hair draped down onto her. The odor of his shampoo was overpoweringly saccharine to the point it made her head spin, the scent that same sickly-sweet strawberry she had suckled from his fingers. She wiggled beneath him, her weak muscles straining against his grip, against his weight, but to no avail, crying harder as her virgin asshole stretched wider and wider, jets of pain wracking her body as he forced his cock inside her bottom.

“Maybe that nice Theo boy you met on the way up?” he said through gritted teeth, his cock’s crown fully inside her tight ass, her hole tight enough to roll back his foreskin all the way. “I’m sure you were too dense to notice, but he was checking you out, you know. I think you’re his type; he’s into girls with mannish faces and long hair. Though he doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would beat your ass for lying to him. _That’s_ the kind of man you deserve, Robin.” His cock was halfway buried in her ass, roughly pumping in and out with no lube whatsoever, the painful friction of each strong so overwhelming it made Madeline want to vomit. Her face was a sloppy mess, her cheeks sopping with tears, yellowish snot beginning to drip out her cute little button nose, and her eyes glassy and distant, focused a million miles away as the Part of Her raped her. She had lost all agency. She was little more than a _thing_ for the Part of Her to use, to degrade. Her body gagged as the Part of Her leaned down, pressing his lips against hers in what could be called only in the loosest possible sense of the word a kiss, his frostbitten tongue snaking its way down her throat. She gagged, if only reflexively, her body limp beneath him as he had his way with her.

“Mmm,” he moaned into her mouth, slowly pulling his tongue away out of her gullet, his lips leaving hers with a juicy, sloppy pop. “Come on, darling. Live a little! This is what you signed up for when you decided to stop being _me_ and start being _you_.” His cock was buried all the way in her guts, his balls resting on her plump asscheeks. “I know I’m being a little mean, but it’s because I love you, Robin. You know that. I’ve always been the rational Part of You while you’ve been the hysterical one.” He pinched her chin, turning her limp head to face him. “This is just a little tough, rough love, darling. Now be a good boy and stay put while I finish.”

He pulled his cock nearly all the way out, only the top quarter-inch of his cock still inside of her, her tight asshole shuddering as it suddenly could contract again, only to be forced back open as he pounded her, slowly, deeply, wet plops filling the hazy air as his heavy balls smacked against her tender flesh, over, and over. Madeline began to moan. She felt it coming. The pressure growing in his balls. In _her_ balls. Each slow stroke pushing him closer. Pushing _her_ closer. “Mm, finally getting into it, huh? I don’t know if I should be happy that you’re getting off taking it up the ass, or angry that you’re still deluding yourself into being a bottom bitch when you’re not.” He grunted, bis pale body snowing frozen sweat down onto her naked body, each freezing drop amplifying the sensations she felt even more. He was past the point of no return, and so was she.

“I’m gonna…!” they both said simultaneously, shouting in pleasure. “... **cum**!” Madeline gasped as she felt the Part of Her’s cock explode inside her, thick ropes of chilly sperm creaming her anus as the Part of Her hilted himself inside, his strokes short and brusque, grinding his tip against her prostate as Madeline’s cock erupted as well, thick white ropes of steaming semen shooting up and sticking against both their bodies, covering his torso, her belly and tits, and even getting a few thick ropes on her face.

“Oh! Isn’t this a surprise,” the Part of Her smirked, pulling his half-hard cock out of her ruined ass, glops of frosty cum oozing from her distended rear. Reaching between her legs, he grabbed her still-hard cock, giving it a teasing stroke. “Where’d that pussy of yours go, Robin? Have you finally given up and seen reality?” He smiled at her. A weirdly warm smile, lacking in the malice that had so saturated his words and deeds. “Let’s go home, Robin. Together.” He reached a hand out, and, trembling, she took it, gently pulling herself up, her faculties finally – _finally –_ back in her own control.

“You’re right,” Madeline said, quietly, a tiny little smile on her face, still holding onto his hand. “I made a mistake.” The Part of Her grinned. “I’m so glad you’re finally admitting it, Robin. There’s a payphone just nearby, we can call Mom and–”

“No, Robin,” Madeline looked up at him, her brown eyes clear for the first time since she awoke. “The mistake I made… was trying to pretend that you and I were different. That Robin died when Madeline was born. But that’s not true. It’s not true at all, Robin.” Her other hand joined the first, gently holding onto him as she looked him in the eyes. He was frowning – not in anger, or frustration, but in bewilderment. “I thought that it was you that made me feel the way I did. The way we were treated by friends and family. The way we were called slurs all through school. The way that looking at our body made me sick. And these all had one thing in common. You.”

“Are you blaming–” It was Madeline’s turn to hush him. “Not anymore. I want to apologize, Robin. Whether or not they were good times… you were a part of my past. And whether or not there will be good times… you’ll be a part of my future. After all, you’re Part of Me.” She turned her head to look out the entrance, where the snowstorm was beginning to subside. The pale light of the moon illuminated the room more, and Madeline noticed Robin tearing up.

“Now, I’m what I always wanted to be. What I always _was_. But that doesn’t mean that what we experienced together wasn’t important to. And,” she smiled at him shyly. “You were the one who told me I could be… me. You were always the rational Part of Me.”

“…it’s not fair,” Tears began to run down Robin’s cheeks as he pulled his hand away from hers. “It’s not fair! Madeline…” he looked up at her, his crimson eyes damp and wide. “Why are you being so nice to me…? After I… after what I did to you…” he ran his wrists across his teary eyes. “I was so scared, Madeline… scared that… you wouldn’t remember me, anymore. This mountain…” His gaze turned outside, looking up toward the summit, a seemingly impossible distance away. “…this was my only chance. I _thought_ this was my only chance. But…”

Madeline hugged him tight. His body was cold, and he shivered, his arms awkwardly wrapping around her to hug her back. “Madeline…” he quietly whispered into her ear. “Yes, Robin?” she replied. “I… I want to…” he paused, and she could feel his blush flaring up against her shoulder. “I want to be a girl too, Madeline…”

“I know, Robin… I know,” Madeline squeezed the Part of Her a little tighter, sharing in her warmth. Where there was once stillness in Robin’s body, there was now a gentle thump-thump of a heartbeat against Madeline’s naked chest. Slowly, Robin let go and slowly stood up. His skin was less pale, having gained more color. His long purple hair shined the shade of bubblegum when the moonlight hit it just right. His chest was a little rounder, a little perkier, with dark, erect nipples capping each little A-cup. And between his legs was a smooth, shaven pussy with a small purple heart of pubic hair trimmed on his mons, already dripping with arousal. “Madeline… can you…” he ran his hand down his body, shivering as his palms ran over his breasts, over his toned tummy to rest on his womb.

Madeline smiled sweetly, her penis already hard again as she pulled herself to her feet, quietly groaning as she felt Robin’s sperm slowly dripping out of her rear. She stepped forward, her penis poking against his mound as she leaned in and kissed him, cupping his cheeks as her tongue met his, tasting each other. “Mmm…” they moaned into each other’s mouths, Madeline slowly pulling away as both their faces were flushed pink. “You taste like strawberries…” Robin shyly said. “I like it…” Madeline was more than happy to give him another kiss, deep and passionate enough for his knees to start to give, Madeline’s arms around his waist as they dropped themselves onto the ground.

“Madeline,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers. “This feels so… right.”

She just nodded knowingly. “Like the weight of the world was off your shoulders? Like you could take off the mask for the first time in your life?” Robin just paused, before nodding furiously, tears being flung from his eyes. “Eventually… maybe we can even get one of _these_ , too,” she said, shyly running a finger down Robin’s slit, watching the Part of Her throw his head back in pleasure. “But right now… I don’t mind having a dick so much,” she quietly said, digging her digits deeper into Robin’s gash, feeling his sticky love on her fingers, his pussy already so eager to receive her.

“Madeline… it feels so good…” Robin gasped, his hips bucking up, humping the air before his pert buttocks slapped back down against the brick floor. She could practically see the hearts in his eyes as he looked down at her, between his barely-there tits. “Please, Madeline, darling… I need you inside me…”

She was happy to oblige, laying herself atop the horny little trans man and pressing her penis against his slit, pushing gently inward, deeper into his virgin vagina, only barely pushing in before she felt resistance, Robin taking a sharp breath inwards as she realized. His hymen.

“Robin… I’m sorry. This is going to hurt a little bit,” she said, pecking his lips before slowly thrusting inside. His arms held tight against her body, his fingertips digging into her back as he felt his maidenhead torn, a sudden paralyzing jolt of pain filling him as he whimpered beneath her. She stopped, her cock buried about halfway inside his bleeding boypussy. “Are you okay?” she asked him in a quiet, reassuring tone.

“Y-yeah, I’m… it still hurts, Madeline, but… it’s not that bad now,” he replied, gasping against her shoulder as she began to push deeper inside, the sensation of his pussy being filled so intensely foreign to him, and yet, feeling so _right_. Every moment his babymaker sang in ecstasy, its song of pleasure filling him with life and love, each inch she slid deeper inside feeling to him like he had ejaculated a hundred times or more. There was no contest to which felt better to him, as his first feminine orgasm began to build, his pussy walls throbbing around her, a deep lust rooting itself inside him, wanting Madeline more than anything in the world. “Madeline,” he gasped as he pressed his mouth against hers. “Make me yours, darling… please.”

She gasped against his mouth, feeling his pussy clamp tightly against her cock. Her cock was hilted inside, her tight balls resting against Robin’s soft bottom, gentle slaps filling the air, mixing with their moans and declarations of love as she slowly humped him. Their chests pressed together, four soft little round hints of boob squishing against one another, their sensitive nipples sword fighting as they wiggled and writhed against each other’s nakedness.

He squealed in pleasure, his pussy’s pleasure peaking, neurons firing in his mind like fireworks on New Year’s Day as climax washed over him. “Madeline…!” he managed to squeak. “I love you…!” His body went taut beneath her, shuddering as intense pleasure wracked every last inch of his body. Masses of muscles milked Madeline’s member, intensely eager to feel his feminine counterpart cum inside his womb. She gave him what he wanted, her hips slamming down into him, harder and harder, her own climax bubbling up. “Robin,” she practically spat, saliva slobbering down onto the Part of Her’s sloppy ahegao. “I’m gonna cum too…!”

She groaned his name in pleasure, her cock against his womb as she began to cum, hot spurts of watery girlsperm lubricating his spasming boycunt. She couldn’t stop herself from thrusting, her still-cumming cock stirring up his insides, a mix of girlcum and boyjuice oozing out of his thoroughly seeded pussy. His arms wrapped around her as she collapsed atop him, both of them panting like they’d ran a marathon. “Madeline…” he quietly whispered into her year. “Thank you…”

She looked down at him and gasped. A look of melancholy was on his face as his body began to fade away, like a ghost. “No… no!” she screamed, reaching down and trying to hold onto him as he dissipated. “Madeline… don’t be afraid,” his voice quietly said. “I’m Part of You. We’re always together. Don’t forget that.”

And then he was gone. She was on her hands and knees, naked and sobbing, as the Part of Her she had always repressed, the Part of Her that she wanted to forget, the Part of her that would always be _part of her,_ finally disappeared.

* * *

Madeline’s eyes shot open, rocketing up in her sleeping bag, her entire body covered in icy sweat. “…what the _fuck_ ,” she panted, wiping the dripping sweat from her brow as she wiggled uncomfortably. There was something _wet_ in her sleeping bag. She lifted the opening a little higher, and saw her pants halfway down her legs, and a sticky cumstain connecting her half-hard penis to the plush fabric on the interior. “…why can’t I have _normal_ wet dreams?” Madeline said with a sigh, reaching over to her backpack and pulling out a dirty shirt, wiping down her body and bag with it before hiking her trousers back on and wriggling out of her warm cocoon. The snowstorm had subsided, and the air was clear and crisp, the fresh snowfall shimmering in the morning sunlight. She closed her eyes and held her hands over her heart, slowly taking in a deep breath. She **is** Madeline. She _was_ Robin. And that was alright. They would always be together, through better or for worse.

 _Just breathe,_ she thought, bringing her hands to her sides as she looked up to the peak of Celeste Mountain. _You can do this._


End file.
